


set my mind alight, beware the flames

by gohoubi



Series: soft melaudrey fics [4]
Category: Snowpiercer (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drunk Sex, F/F, Light Angst, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, i wrote this while procrastinating my philosophy assignment, quick sex I guess? not very long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:34:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29149788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gohoubi/pseuds/gohoubi
Summary: A night spent together.
Relationships: Miss Audrey/Melanie Cavill
Series: soft melaudrey fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128500
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	set my mind alight, beware the flames

**Author's Note:**

> Damn, the second season really threw me for a loop. If you know you know. Also Ruth sniffing Wilford’s letter had me rolling 😂

The floor pulses slightly in time with the music from downstairs. Mel can feel it in every part of her body; all the way down to her fingertips. Audrey takes a drag from her pipe and blows the smoke towards the ceiling. In some rational corner of Mel’s brain, she thinks _fire hazard_. That thought dissipates like the smoke - Mel finds she doesn’t care about that. _Let this whole train go up in flames._

“Damn, Melanie, that doesn’t sound like you,” Audrey says from the couch. Mel realises sluggishly that she must have said that out loud. “We need this train to live, you know.”

“I’m wondering what the point is,” Mel says eventually. The alcohol flows through her veins, distorting her vision and her thoughts. “We’re just barrelling through the ice…with nothing to look forward to.”

“Until the engine fails.”

“Or we run out of supplies.” Before she’d come here, Mel had listened to Jinju over the phone, going on and on about supply chain disruptions and plants refusing to grow. She’d wanted to hang up out of pure frustration, but that wouldn’t have gone down well. “It’ll probably be that one first.”

“What if you just…let the train stop?” Audrey flops onto her side so she can face Mel.

“We’d all freeze,” Mel says, taking a swig from her glass. It’s Nightcar alcohol, and incredibly potent. In a sober moment, Audrey had said: _we’re here to get drunk, right?_ “We’d all die.”

Audrey climbs off the couch unsteadily, somehow managing to keep everything in her pipe. The beat picks up. “I’d be happy dying,” she says, “if my last moment was here. With you.”

Mel finds herself both amused and disconcerted by Audrey’s sentimentality. But mostly disconcerted. “You don’t mean that,” she says.

“No,” Audrey whines, kneeling down on the bed. They are so close together they are practically touching. “I can prove that I mean it.”

“How?” Everything feels like it’s coming through water, distorted and muffled. _You’ll pay for this tomorrow,_ her rational brain whispers. Audrey doesn’t say anything, just closes the distance. She tastes like alcohol and smoke, lipstick and sweat, a cocktail of scent and taste that is unmistakably Audrey. Mel drinks it in, takes as much as she can; she might never get this again. Audrey’s hand wraps around the back of her neck and pulls her even closer, until they are pressed up against each other. Mel feels her ponytail being undone; the elastic band snaps and Audrey throws it to the side. Mel runs her fingers through the other woman’s hair, eliciting a moan of pleasure from Audrey.

“I can go further,” Audrey breathes, her hand questing underneath Mel’s shirt. “Just say it, and I will.”

In ordinary circumstances, Mel would have retreated to the engine by now, away from Audrey and all her intoxicating wiles. Right now though, the alcohol is flowing, and Audrey’s body is warm against hers. Mel has no desire to cut this short.

“Yes,” she gasps, and then she's fumbling Audrey’s bra strap, practically tearing it off when it gets caught. Audrey does the same, pulling off Mel’s shirt in one swift motion. The action is quick and desperate; riding the wave of passion. In half a minute they are both naked, and Audrey’s body is pressed up against Mel’s. She can feel every point of contact: their legs wound together, Audrey’s hand on her neck, their lips crashing together. Audrey’s fingers thrust between Mel’s legs, and all at once every neuron in her brain is sparking, lighting up her brain and body in a white hot fire. Mel feels Audrey’s fingers moving to a rhythm - as if to a song only she can hear.

“You like that?” Audrey growls, uncharacteristically aggressive. _Yes,_ sings every nerve in Mel’s body. “Yes,” she moans, her hips pushing against Audrey’s hand. Audrey needs no further encouragement, her fingers moving even quicker. Mel feels herself growing wet. Audrey must sense this too, because she says, “Come for me, Melanie.”

“Audrey - “ Mel can barely think straight. “Audrey, I ca - ”

“Come for me,” Audrey growls insistently. “Do it, Melanie. Do it.” The mattress creaks as they shift back and forth on top. When Audrey hits the spot, lightning crackles up Mel’s body and she whines in spite of herself. Mel knows she’s nearly there - her body is a resistor, and soon the current coming from Audrey will be too much. All she can hear now is her own heartbeat and Audrey’s rough breathing, with the music from downstairs still faintly coming through. Audrey’s fingers strike one last time. Mel bites her lip to keep from crying out, so hard she can taste blood; all the tension drains from her body at once. Audrey withdraws her hand, kisses her gently. Her eyes are alight, as if she’s pleased with herself - Mel imagines she must look the same. Just like that, it’s over. Mel flops back onto the pillows, her legs tingling. “Oh god,” is all she can say.

“Is that good or bad?” Audrey says, a mischievous smile on her face. She crawls to the other side of the bed and lays down next to Mel.

“Leave that for you to decide,” Mel says, half out of breath. “You think they heard us down there?”

Audrey starts to laugh, the sound bubbling up like water from a geyser. “I don’t know whether I want them to or not.” She reclaims her pipe, takes a long drag. There’s a few seconds of silence, then the soft hiss as she exhales it towards the ceiling. “Your lip is bleeding.”

Mel wipes her mouth; her hand comes away red. “It is. I guess you’re just that good.”

“You know it.”

They say nothing for the next while, just enjoying the high, now fading. After Mel’s release, everything seems softer. She feels tiredness pulling her down - she’ll drop off in a minute.

“Audrey,” Mel says sleepily, “can I stay here?”

“Well, you’re already draped half across my bed.” Audrey extinguishes the pipe, sets it aside. “Budge over. If you’re gonna stay, I need room too.” Mel obliges, shuffling along so Audrey can spread out properly. She can still feel the faint, pleasurable burning feeling in her upper thighs, as if she’s just run a marathon. It is dangerous to stay, and Mel almost regrets asking, but the mattress is so soft and she feels so pleasantly spent. Consequences are tomorrow Mel’s problem.

There’s something unreadable in Audrey’s eyes; Mel can’t figure out what emotion is swirling in there. Sadness? Regret? Pain? Mel sighs, the tether to wakefulness tearing. “Goodnight,” Audrey says gently, and just before Mel drops off, she feels Audrey’s fingers entwining in her own.


End file.
